


Ineffable Husbands Tumblr Drabbles

by WinglessPigeon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 06:02:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19419934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinglessPigeon/pseuds/WinglessPigeon
Summary: I haven't been into writing fanfiction for so many years, so I hope it's at least subpar!





	Ineffable Husbands Tumblr Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> "Angel, Sleepover. Please."

"Angel, Sleepover. Please." 

Crowley's hand was gripped tightly on his wrist, the pleading look in his eyes was deadly, his glasses tipped slightly downwards. This was dangerous. Even so, the angel couldn't help but indulge. It wasn't often Crowley adhered to courtesies such as please's and thank you's. He seemed.. desperate.

Aziraphale stared at him, peering through those brilliant, yellow eyes of his. Registering. 'Why?', he has to ask himself. He could feel his sincerity, his grip faltering.

"I'm sssorry, you don-"

"NO!" he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he clears his throat, "Of course, my dear. You can come to mine, if you'd like?"

With wide eyes, Crowley nods. His hold becomes slack and he lets go. "Well, come on then angel." 

Wordlessly, they left the Ritz and found their way to the Bentley. Crowley was nearly scared to discorporation when Aziraphale accepted. Maybe he felt one of those damned 'flashes of love' of his? Hopefully not.

He drove at a comfortable speed. It almost frightened him, the prospect of being back in the bookshop. Last time he was there, it was up in flames. He simply cringed at the memory, trying his best to cram the thought into the back of his head. Aziraphale was safe and sound, and he was going to make blessed sure of that.

The ride was quiet, to say the least. Some things don't have to be said to be heard. Aziraphale wasn't going to make Crowley admit that he's anxious about being away from him, that was for sure. He could feel it. The worry. Even now, he could feel it. Tainted with something else, something bittersweet. It couldn't be love, he was a demon after all. Yet still, the feeling was intoxicating and addictive. Aziraphale had enjoyed Crowley's hand interlocked with his during Armeggedon't, more than he's willing to admit. The angel didn't realize his gaze had fallen upon Crowley until he was looking right back at him.

Fuck.

Quickly, he looks away.

"Angel?"

"Eyes on the road, Crowley! You shouldn't be going that fast!" Phew. Crisis diverted.

Crowley raised his eyebrows in suspicion, and a grin spread across his face. "I was going the ssspeed limit, angel." Aziraphale had nothing to say to that, apparently, which only made his smile grow. The Bentley rolled up to his bookshop.

Opening the car door, Aziraphale reared his flustered head, "Oh, shut it."

"I didn't say anything!" That cheeky smile has yet to fade as he slithers out of the car to see Aziraphale looking at the ground with a concentrated look on his face. He fumbles for his keys while Crowley just miracles the door open.

"No need to thwart my wiles today." He yawns and crashes dramatically on the couch. Aziraphale goes in after him, locking the door behind him. Crowley is already curled up on the couch. He seems pretty exhausted, especially for a being that doesn't need sleep.

"Tea, my dear?"

What he heard, in turn, was muffled, "Sod tea, m' too sleepy."

This somewhat disappointed him. He was hoping he'd be able to enjoy his company for a tad longer before he fell asleep, "Oh.. alright. Do you need a blanket or anything at all?" To this, Crowley took off his glasses and put them on a table.

Aziraphale would be damned to say his eyes weren't the most beautiful things he ever laid eyes upon, it wasn't often that he got the chance to see them.

"Can you stay with me?" His voice sounded ever so small, hesitant. Pleading, almost. Aziraphale just stared. He was sure he could almost.. feel something.

Crowley's gaze grew ever more reluctant, "it's just... I don't want you to disssappear on me, I'd feel better if I knew you were here."

Aziraphale let out a big, shaky breath and nodded, sitting down beside the couch. Crowley reaches out for his hand, and he pauses for a moment before accepting. He feels it again. Flashes of love. They were hard to distinguish. He could feel the sheer amount of love in the bookshop. Of course, that was to be expected. 'Being of Love' was on his resume, after all, but there was something else. That same bittersweet flavour.

Yet, Crowley could feel it too. Aziraphale's love radiating from him, his warmth. It felt familiar, if not a tad suffocating. His warmth. He looks at the angel, and his eyes drift closed. His face is burned into the back of his eyelids.

Just when Aziraphale thought he might have fallen asleep, Crowley's soft, sleepy voice rung out, just above a whisper.

"Y'know, angel. I thought you died. I'd never see you again, and what not." He frowns, it looks like he just took a nice bite out of a lemon. He props himself up, letting go of Aziraphale's handin the process.

"Oh." His hand does an awful lot of fiddling, now that it's not occupied. "Well, I'm not. I'm here now." He would be lying if he said that he was having trouble with temptation right now. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to hold him, to kiss him thousands of times. To love him like he deserves to be.

"C-Crowley?" He can't back out now.

"Yeah?"

'I think I love you." And there it was. The words that have been on the tip of his tongue for so long. He looks to the side, he can feel Crowley's eyes searching his face.

"Well, of course you do. You're a bloody angel, it's in your job description." Crowley was now anxious. He licks his lips nervously. He was pretty damn sure what Aziraphale meant, but he wasn't about to be wrong.

"That's not what I meant," he tugs at his collar, he really is starting to regret his choice, "of course, I've always loved you. It's my job, my dear, b-but... ah- you see..." He takes a stabilizing breath that he does not need, "The way that I love you has changed. Over six millennia, I suppose. I miss you when you're not around. I want to be close to you... I don't think you'd be able to reciprocate, though. So, I'm sorry."

Dammit.

Crowley's eyes are wide, unblinking. His heart is thumping in his chest, much more than necessary. Aziraphale looks back up to him, gently placing his hands on his face. "Crowley, I love you."

"Oh."

This was a turn of events that Crowley has certainly not expected. It surprised him even more so when he found himself kissing Aziraphale. He acted before he could even notice his actions. So this is what kissing an angel felt like. Ethereal. Better than anything he's ever experienced. A little surprised gasp came from the back of the angel's throat.

He didn't stop him, so he carried on slowly. Carefully. He wasn't going to go too fast. Aziraphale's lips were pliant, soft. Better than what he could have ever imagined. For temptation incarnate, he had a terrible amount of self-control. And, Aziraphale was kissing him back. This was better than Heaven.

Crowley drew away, breathing heavily, "Angel, I love you. How are you so dense? I thought you could feel blasted love."

Oh, that's what the bittersweetness was. He always just thought that's how Crowley felt. "Sorry dear, I'm a bit slow." Crowley crawled off the couch, slithering into his lap. Aziraphale knew he shouldn't be doing this, that he shouldn't love a demon, but at this point, he wondered if God Herself could even stop his love.

It's not a written rule or anything, right?

Aziraphale pulled him closer, commencing another, more passionate kiss. Little loving pecks, Crowley nibbling on his lip. This had been six millennia worth of pining, waiting. He could feel their hearts thrumming as one, like a hummingbird on heroin. 

Eventually, they dozed off on the bookshop floor. Crowley was sprawled atop of Aziraphale, his head buried deep in his chest. Aziraphale's warmth was enough for the both of them, one white wing draped on them both, shielding them from the outside world.

This is the start of the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, Kudos would be appreciated.


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